At the table, Gloria was thanking Jay for his kind words. “Arthur would have loved what you said.” She spoke softly. “You captured him beautifully.” Virgie slipped in next to Jackson and felt him reaching for her hand under the table. She took it, squeezed it.
“How are you doing?” he whispered.
“Okay.” She felt a wash of relief that Jackson was finally here, sitting beside her. When he’d first pulled up to the house, she’d worried that seeing him might be awkward, her diagnosis standing between them like a cement wall. But as soon as he got out of the car and she glimpsed his shock of dark, wavy hair and his smile (that smile! ), any second thoughts melted away. She raced to him and jumped into his arms, practically knocking him over. He hugged her, hard, then buried his head in her hair, saying, “God, I’ve missed you. I didn’t know I could miss someone so much.”
“I know,” Virgie said. “It’s so good to see you. Thanks for coming. So much has happened these last few weeks, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“Shh.” He held his fingertips to her lips. “You don’t have to. You’ve filled me in on the big stuff.” And then she led him back to the house, to her sisters and Gloria, who’d been standing just beyond the front door, she was quite sure, spying on them. Maggie, then Jess, said hello, and Virgie could tell by the way they leaned forward, lingered in a handshake, that they liked him. Even Gloria acted sweetly surprised and pulled Jackson into an embrace. “You’re even more handsome than Virgie gives you credit for.”
“Go,” her sisters ordered. “Go lie in the hammock or something and catch up. We’ll finish cleaning up.” And so, Virgie offered him a drink from the cooler and led him by the hand out to the back deck, where the ocean breeze felt good on her sticky skin.
“Man, this place is gorgeous,” Jackson said. It was the first time that week that Virgie had given a moment’s thought to the house’s charms. She’d been so focused on the mess, the squalor, the sadness of what they’d discovered inside that she’d almost forgotten the beauty that the place once held. She tried to see it through Jackson’s eyes now. He was right. The house had been lovely, could still be lovely.
“It’s funny. I’d kind of forgotten, given everything we found inside.”
He folded his arms around her while they looked out on the water, dragonflies darting above the sand like tiny sparks of light.
“My dad used to love to take walks along here. And when we were girls, we’d have races on the beach. Jess always had to win, of course—you know, middle sister complex. But sometimes they’d let me win.”
“I thought Jess and Maggie were twins,” Jackson said, surprised.
“They are. But Maggie was born first, so she always lorded it over the rest of us.” Virgie laughed. “In a good way, of course.”
“Sounds like my big brother, Adam.” It occurred to Virgie that while she was aware that Jackson had brothers, she knew nothing about them.
“I know nothing about your family, while you know so much about mine,” she said now, almost apologetically.
He laughed. “Don’t worry, there’s not much that’s interesting to know. Both my brothers are successful businessmen. I’m the big disappointment in the family, at least according to my dad.”
“But how is that possible?” Virgie exclaimed. “You’re a nurse, helping people every day.”
“Exactly. A nurse, but not a doctor.”
“Well, I think you’re perfect,” she said, turning in his arms to kiss him.
“Careful. You don’t want to inflate my ego even more.”
She realized, as they sat at the table now, that she wanted to know every little thing about this man. Not just the mole that hovered above his right elbow, or the exact shade of blue of his eyes, but the big stuff. What his parents were like, what his best memories of growing up were. They’d talked so much in the first month of their relationship, and yet there was still so much to discover. The thought of it gave her a small thrill. She leaned back as the waiter set down her plate of roast beef, mashed potatoes with gravy, and carrots. Comfort food. Virgie glanced around the table and thought how proud Arthur would be to have all these people, so dear to him, gathered in one place to celebrate his life. Had he been given the chance to write the ending to his own story, would he have written something similar to this? she wondered. She hoped so. But at the thought of her dad sitting there with them all, telling jokes, her eyes swelled again with tears. Damn it, Daddy, she thought. You should be here. At your own funeral.
She picked at her roast beef, her appetite suddenly gone. Jackson reached over and gently rubbed her back.
“Hey, can I get you anything?” he asked. “Maybe some ginger ale?” She loved that he could intuit her moods, understand when she needed a soft touch, reassurance. She shook her head, then caught Maggie watching them, a smile playing across her lips. Virgie recognized that look: it was her sister’s “approving” smile.
Mrs. Stonehill was placing another drink order. “Would you like your Chardonnay oaked or unoaked?” asked the waiter.
“Most definitely unoaked, my dear boy,” she said. “I prefer oak in my floors, not in my drink.”
“Good enough,” replied the waiter and turned on his heel. Jackson shot Virgie a puzzled look, but she just laughed. It was better that her boyfriend learn sooner than later the quirks of her family and friends. And she realized with a start that it was the first time she’d actually called him her boyfriend, if only in her mind. The talk circled on with memories of her dad.
When it was time for dessert, the decision was unanimous: bananas Foster, Arthur’s favorite. The waiter placed a platter on the table—the bananas arranged like daisy petals dripping in brown sugar and rum—and set it ablaze with a huge whooshing sound.
“Arthur always said he wanted to go out with a blast,” Jay joked, and they laughed.
Eventually, their table was the last one still seated. They exchanged reluctant good-byes with Jay and the Stonehills, who were staying at a hotel further down the street. Virgie and Jackson headed back to their own room. The emotional and physical drain of the last few days was settling in, and she leaned against Jackson as they walked. Back in the room, she pulled off her heels, changed into her pajamas, and brushed her teeth and scrubbed her face before crawling into bed.
“Come here,” Jackson said, gathering her in his arms and stroking her hair. The local news played on the television—some story about a missing dog—but Virgie wasn’t listening.
“It’s so nice to hold you again,” he said.
“It’s nice to be held.” The scent of Jackson’s soap drifted over to her, fresh, comforting, familiar.
He kissed the top of her head. “I missed you so much.”
“You already said that,” she teased.
“No, like insanely missed you,” he clarified.
“Oh, well, in that case, I apologize. I only sanely missed you.”
“Such a wiseass,” he said and kissed her again. She looked up at him and felt the butterflies. It had been one of the strangest, most exhausting weeks of her life. But also, quite possibly, one of the best. Because here was the man she thought she might very well love, holding her and telling her how much he’d missed her. If she told him she loved him, would she risk everything? She was afraid. Afraid that he might not feel the same way. She needed her own place to land, her own island. Was Jackson it? He took her chin in his hand and grazed his lips against hers.
“I love you, Virginia Herington,” he whispered. And there it was. Virgie felt her heart jump. There was so much more they needed to discuss. Was he really okay with her diagnosis? What if they got married? What if they had kids? Would he worry they’d be carriers? And the other big question that had been tumbling around in her head all week: she didn’t know if she wanted to go back to Seattle.
“Me too,” she said. “Me too,” she repeated, savoring the words like a sweet liqueur.
The next morning, Virgie called a family conference,
texting her sisters to meet her in the hotel restaurant by 8:30. She couldn’t postpone her announcement any longer, and she was bursting to tell. She’d shared her plans with Jackson late last night, and now she needed to get the go-ahead from the rest of the family.
As soon as she stepped into the dining room, she spied Gloria sitting at a table across the room, reading the paper. Virgie went to grab herself coffee and said a quick hello to her sisters, who were already waiting in the omelet line.
“Mom, I’ve got something to tell you,” Virgie said, pulling up a chair. Gloria lifted her eyes from the paper.
“Good morning, dear. Are you feeling okay? Yesterday was a pretty dramatic affair, although I think your dad would have loved it.” Before her mother could continue, Virgie interrupted. She’d already decided it was best to cut to the chase.
“Mom, I don’t want you to freak out, but remember the doctor’s appointment I had in Boston?”
Gloria’s eyebrows peaked into tight little arches. “Yes? I thought it went fine. No news? Isn’t that what Maggie told me?”
Virgie wondered if she looked as guilty as she felt. She’d asked Maggie to lie when Gloria called the night after the appointment. It wasn’t so much a lie, she told herself, as it was an omission of the truth. She simply didn’t have the strength to weather Gloria’s reaction, whatever it might be, to the news that she was only beginning to digest herself.
“Well,” Virgie began, searching for words. “Part of it was okay, but the other part, well, they do seem to think it’s MS.” She was surprised by how easily the acronym slipped off her tongue. She took her mother’s hand while Gloria gathered a sharp intake of breath.
“What?” she asked, pulling away her hand and covering her throat, her ringed fingers trembling. “But, I thought you were fine. I thought all the tests were negative.”
Virgie sighed. “That’s what I’d hoped. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I needed some time myself to get my head around the news. And with Dad’s death and then the house . . .” She stopped. “Well, it just never seemed like a good time to give you even more bad news.” While she’d been bracing herself for Gloria’s reaction, Virgie realized now that it no longer mattered so much to her. Her sisters had already offered to help however they could, and there was Jackson. Jackson, Jackson, Jackson. It was funny—when she’d thought of his name back in Seattle it had been with a shiver of excitement; now the thought of Jackson was like a Zen mantra she recited to calm herself. Whether her mom wanted to help or not made little difference in the scheme of things. Virgie was not alone in this.
She watched while her mom worked to rearrange her face into an expression Virgie couldn’t immediately identify. “Oh, honey,” Gloria said finally and pulled her into a hug. “Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. We’ll get through it. Don’t you worry. Everything is going to be just fine.”
And Virgie felt yet another small piece of her protective armor slipping away. Because whether or not she cared to admit it, weren’t those the very words she’d been waiting to hear? She recognized now the expression on her mother’s face, one she hadn’t glimpsed in a long while: maternal love. She’d almost forgotten. Just then, her sisters joined them at the table, setting down oversize omelets.
“Everything okay?” Maggie pulled out a chair and sat.
“Yes,” said Virgie. “Everything’s fine. I just told Mom the news.”
“Oh?” Jess arched an eyebrow.
“Yes, she did.” Gloria patted her hand. “We’re going to take good care of her, aren’t we, girls?”
“Of course we are,” said Maggie.
Virgie sipped her coffee. “That sort of brings me to the other topic I wanted to discuss.” She took a breath, then launched in. “I’m thinking of staying.”
“Oh, honey,” Gloria said, waving a hand in the air. “That won’t be necessary. We can take care of things with Arthur’s house. You don’t need to worry about that.”
“No, as in sticking around. I want to move here and”—she paused again—“and live in Daddy’s house.” She waited. “If that’s all right with all of you, of course.”
“What?” Maggie asked, her voice catching in her throat. “Really? You’re going to come back this way? For good?”
“But what about your job? About Jackson?” Jess, ever the practical one, pressed.
Virgie had been thinking about it all week. “I’m tired of all the stress. I’ve been wanting to leave the station for a while,” she explained. “I e-mailed my old boss at the Portland-Press Herald. He wants me to come in and start on a few pieces. Hopefully, it will turn into something full-time. I’ve got a little savings. I shouldn’t have to worry about money for a while.” She paused. “I haven’t told my boss yet. I wanted to hear what you all thought first.”
Maggie jumped up and leaned in to hug her. “That is the most fabulous news! And here you had me thinking it was something awful.”
“I’m sorry,” Virgie continued. “But the past few weeks have made me realize how much I miss you all. And with MS, well, who knows, but I could probably use a little help down the line. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t think I can do it alone,” she admitted, her voice quiet.
“Finally,” Jess said. When Virgie shot her a questioning look, she explained, “I’m just glad you realize you’re not alone in this. That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you since you were a little girl.” Virgie smiled, suddenly grateful.
“And Jackson?” her mother asked again.
“I’m going to fly back to Seattle with him. I need to arrange for movers anyway.” She hesitated, not quite sure she believed the words she was about to utter herself. “And Jackson . . . we’re going to try things long-distance for a few months while I get settled out here. But”—she glanced around the table—“he says he’s always wanted to come back East. He graduated from Dartmouth, so, maybe . . .” She shrugged. “Who knows, maybe he’ll move out this way, too.”
“Well, there’s certainly plenty of room in that house!” Gloria clapped her hands together. She sighed. “Just think: I’ll have all my girls in one place again.”
“So?” Virgie’s gaze traveled around the table. “It’s okay with everyone if we don’t sell the house? At least not right now?” It was remarkable to be asking such a thing, given the state they’d found the place in. But it was her home, where they’d grown up, filled with memories. How could she let that go? Arthur had left the house to the girls to dispense with as they pleased, the proceeds to be divided evenly. Virgie understood she was asking her sisters to forgo a possible financial windfall.
Jess leaned back in her chair and nodded, grinning. Maggie rested her elbows on the table and looked at Virgie dreamily. “It’s perfect. It’s what Dad would have wanted. I’m sure of it.”
“Then it’s decided!” Gloria exclaimed.
“What’s decided?” asked Jackson, who sidled up next to Virgie and set down a bowl of cereal. His dark hair was tousled, his eyes still sleepy. Virgie grinned at him. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop.
Jess
Jess draped her wet towel over the shower rod. As chaotic and crazy and sad as this week had been, it had been a little bit of a break not to have to put dinner on the table or do the laundry or pick up someone else’s towel. But she was missing her kids. She was missing Tim.
She packed her brush and toothbrush into the zipper compartment of her suitcase. Checkout time was in fifteen minutes. Tomorrow, Virgie would fly to Seattle with Jackson, but once she had movers set up, she’d be back this way. Home! The thought of Virgie—and possibly Jackson—living in Arthur’s house made Jess smile. She knew Arthur would approve. And now Grace and Teddy would be able to see their younger aunt. They could visit the house in Maine. Perhaps there would be a wedding! All those memories that Jess had been sad to think the kids would miss out on could become a reality. Walks along the rocky Maine coastline, succulent lobster pulled fresh from the ocean, blueberry picking by the bushel.
/> She closed her suitcase and zipped it up, set her purse beside it on the bed. She surveyed the room one last time to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. But aside from a few dirty towels and a missing handful of travel-size lotions that she’d heisted for the kids, the room appeared ready for the next guest. A text popped up on her cell, which lay on the bed, and she grabbed it. A picture of Grace and Teddy playing at the park this morning. They looked so happy. Can’t wait to see you! Tim had typed underneath.
I love you guys, she texted back. See you this afternoon.
Jess checked her pocket for her room key and rolled her suitcase behind her as she closed the door. They’d all agreed to meet in the lobby to say their good-byes. When she stepped off the elevator, Gloria was already seated in a leather couch in the main gathering area. Virgie and Jackson sat across from her, engaged in conversation. Jess walked over to them.
“Jessica,” her mother said, “I was just telling Virginia and Jackson that I might fly out to help with Virginia’s move. It seems a shame for her to fly back here before she’s even had a chance to show me around Seattle.”
“Wow, Mom. That’s great.” Jess didn’t add that Virgie had invited Gloria to visit her about a million times in the last few years, and each time, Gloria had offered a convenient excuse for why she couldn’t travel. Now she and Virgie exchanged looks as if to say, See, all it took was your leaving Seattle to get Mom to finally fly there. “Well, I, for one, can’t wait to have you back on this coast,” Jess said. “When do you think you’ll be able to head this way?”
Virgie glanced at Jackson. “Probably in a few weeks? I’ll be driving out with the movers.” He nodded and wove his fingers into hers.
“I’m hoping I can join her sooner rather than later,” he added. “I’ve already started dusting off my résumé.”
“Did I mention I like this guy?” Jess smiled and headed over to the checkout line.
Just then, Maggie entered the lobby pulling a wheelie suitcase behind her. “Hi, gang.” She waved and pushed her sunglasses up on her head. Long blond waves framed her face. She wore a pink sundress and wedge espadrilles. Even after a funeral and a week’s worth of housecleaning, Maggie still looked gorgeous. She pulled up next to Jess in line.
The Summer of Good Intentions Page 26